


burden

by Ryah_Ignis



Series: Season 13 Codas [20]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 13x20 Coda, :))))))))))), Gen, Hell Trauma, we're gonna deal with sam's hell issues because apparently no one else will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 11:19:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14448195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryah_Ignis/pseuds/Ryah_Ignis
Summary: “You might have forgotten, but Lucifer has been here before.  Multiple times.  You might be able to sleep easy knowing that, but I can’t.”Not that he sleeps easy much anyway, but still.  Dean might be able to shake that off, but he hasn’t had someone touch his soul in the library or blast bad music from his bedroom.“Sam—”“What’s your problem with me wanting Lucifer dead?  Last time I checked you weren’t in his fan club.”Post 13x20, Sam and Dean talk about Lucifer.  Later, Cas chats to Dean about Sam and hell.





	burden

“So what, I can’t even eat for myself now?”

Sam doesn’t even bother to hide the sharpness that creeps into his voice when Dean shows up at his door with a bowl of soup.  From the smell of it, it’s a reheated version of the stuff he made to celebrate Cas getting home from Syria, but not even the fond memory of that meal can make him want to take anything Dean gives him right now.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Considering that I know for a fact that you haven’t today?  I’d say so.”

He sets the bowl down on the little table beside Sam’s bed, straightens up, and stands there, arms crossed.  Sam knows that look.  It’s the same one Dean used to fix him with back when he was the one setting his bedtime.  That particular comparison doesn’t make him feel much better about the situation at hand.

“I eat when I’m hungry.”

To his credit, Dean doesn’t point out that a man of his size should probably be hungry far more often than Sam tends to be. 

“Well, it’s here if you want it.  If not, flush it down the toilet for all I care.”

Sam doesn’t answer, hoping that Dean will take the hint and just leave already.  Predictably, he stays exactly where he is.  Typical.  He never knows when to leave well enough alone.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Dean points at the archangel blade, sitting on the nightstand. “What’s that?”

Sam’s eyes drift over to it, too.  He could copy every single sigil down on a piece of paper if asked, describe the angles of the twisting metal, number each and every nick and scrape on it.

There are a whole host of replies.  He hasn’t slept better in years, for one.  Instead, Sam goes for the one that requires the least explanation.

“I’m prepared.”

Dean scoffs. “Good to know you’re ready if he jumps you in your sleep.”

If he wasn’t so tired, he’d be angry.  He’d shout like he had at Dad as a teenager, all righteous anger and balled fists and raw throat.  But all Sam can summon is a small flare in his chest that doesn’t even amount to annoyance in the end.  He’s _so_ tired.

“You might have forgotten, but he’s been here before.  Multiple times.  You might be able to sleep easy knowing that, but I can’t.”

Not that he sleeps easy much anyway, but still.  Dean might be able to shake that off, but he hasn’t had someone touch his soul in the library or blast bad music from his bedroom.

“Sam—”

“What’s your problem with me wanting Lucifer dead?  Last time I checked you weren’t in his fan club.”

Dean looks like he very much wants to roll his eyes again, as if the answer is painfully obvious. “Of course I want him dead.  What he did to you—God, Sammy.  I know.  But the last time you went for him—”

“This isn’t last time!”

“You can’t beat him.”

Sam tries for something like a smile, but it comes out more like baring his teeth.

“He used to tell me that, too.  And guess what?  I did.”

He scoops the soup up from his nightstand and shoves it back into Dean’s chest, hard.

“I’m done having you tell me what I’m capable of.  The next time I see him, I’m going to stab him in the throat.”

Dean pauses, like he’s going to say something else, then thinks better of it.  Mechanically, he walks toward the door and shuts it quietly behind him.  Sam flops down on his bed again.

When his stomach growls, he flops over and ignores it.

* * *

Cas runs into Dean carrying a bowl of soup in the hallway outside of Sam’s room.

“Gabriel is complaining about your detergent.  He says it smells too fruity.”

Dean grunts in acknowledgement.  Cas knows instantly because of the lack of a smart remark that something is wrong.  So he keeps talking.

“Is that Leila’s mother’s recipe?”

He’d gotten it off of the Syrian girl who’d helped him on his search for the Tree of Life.  It still smells fantastic, even heated up.

“Yeah.  You want some?”

Together, they wind through the bunker’s hallways until they end up in the kitchen.  Dean rummages around in one of the drawers and emerges with an extra spoon.  He hands it off to Cas, and they both pick at the bowl.

“Sam didn’t want any?”

Dean shrugs. “More like didn’t want to see me.  He’s angry with me for going through the rift alone.”

Cas raises an eyebrow. “To be clear, I’m still angry with you about that.”

He thought they’d reached the point where they’d communicate when something went completely pear-shaped, but apparently not.  Still, there’s not a lot of venom in his voice when he says it.  He understands the choice, even if he doesn’t agree with it; he probably would have made the same one himself.

Another grunt.  It appears that he’s going to have to carry the bulk of this conversation alone.

“You were fine when you left yesterday.”

Dean waves a hand. “Yeah, well, he thinks I’m babying him with the Lucifer thing, too.  Did you know he has the archangel blade on his freaking nightstand?”

“I suggested he keep it,” Cas says bluntly.

At that, Dean starts, head snapping up.

“You know, I find him in the library some nights.” Most nights, really, but Dean doesn’t really need to know that. “Not researching or reading.  Just staring at the wall.”

Usually he doesn’t say anything, just sits beside him until Sam finally retreats back to his bed to give sleeping another shot.

“When you took his Hell memories, I thought it would be over.  I thought he’d be okay.  And he was, for a long time.”

Cas inclines his head. “I took the hallucinations, Dean.  Not the memories.  Those are still his burden to bear.  And they’ve all been too close for comfort these last few years.”

Dean eats a few spoonfuls of soup, his eyes focused on the wall behind Cas’s head.  Cas lets him process.

“I just want him to be safe,” Dean says at last. “All of you.  My family.  I want you safe.”

Cas leans over and squeezes his hand. “That’s not always your choice.”

He stands, gripping Dean’s hand for a moment more. “I’m going to go find Gabriel some non-fruity sheets.”

Dean nods. “Try the linen closet near Rowena’s room.  I think there’s some stuff in the back I haven’t gotten to yet.”

When Cas finally leaves the kitchen, it’s with Dean staring at that same place in the wall, lost in thought.

 

**Author's Note:**

> In which I show my Sam!girl colors :)


End file.
